09/09/2024

Over the course of this last month I have felt very lazy. Very much addicted to quick pleasures. Distractions come in various forms. However, today being my first day available to actively plan my move to New York, I had a moment of reflection. I remember being in High School and telling my friends in my Junior year chemistry class how one day I would like to frequent NYC pursuing creative endeavors. At the time I was constructing and screenprinting clothes in my house. I thought my dream was to be a fashion designer. I was overly influenced by heavy music and street fashion. It was probably easy to guess what I liked artistically just by looking at me. I would wear my favorite musicians merch like a right of passage, hoping someone would ask me about their music or tell me they listen to them as well. Maybe I’d have a good conversation. But maybe I’d make a friend. Looking back on it, all I ever wanted was meaningful relationships. Not to be someone who was passive to another’s existence. I spent so much time in my teens years feeling lonely. It is very much an insufferable cliche. The kid who thinks their music taste is good and is depressed and misunderstood or something. I hate that all of it was true. But the purest truth out of it all, was the comfort and safety I felt within that music.

Music has been there for me for every possible occassion, emotion, high and low. The thing is, I know I am romanticizing it. However, my greatest epiphany I’ve had in recent years, is why does that matter? So what if I want to romanticize my life. For once, I am starting to feel okay with being a little delusional. I’m healthier that way. My relationships are healthier that way. I have clarity.

A core functionality to this romanticization is the transcension of music’s role in my life. It was when I picked up that camera and focused on creating visuals for others that the dots connected. My love of music gave me purpose

People began wanting me around. People began talkking to me. And not just because it made sense to, but because others cared about my opinion. Cared what it was I could add to their already established passion. I held value. I felt valued. Something I always questioned whether or not I possessed.

I’ve gained amazing memories and experiences because of that love of music. I’ve lived an infinite amount of lives because of the foundation of sound. I don’t love music for what it’s done for me. Instead, I love it because of what it does for us. Music brings people together. The cure for all loneliness. A cure that I didn’t know was right in front of me my whole life. I am so grateful to say that I can afford (barely) to now move to New York because of music. Everyday I feel as though I am making ym 15 year old self proud. I know he wouldn’t fathom some of the accomplishments I’ve reached. For the most part though, I think I always knew I’d be okay.

With all that sentimental yapping out of the way, it’s fair to think why not love for videos or editing or something like that. The truth is, I don’t think that’s what fuels me. It so happen to be the medium which allowed myself to communicate ideas and expression effectively but it isn’t what feels worth romanticizing. I could sit here and say oh yeah my dad let me hold and record on his Hi8 when I was like 5, and how I shot my first film camera in Second grade, or how I filmed YouTube videos with my friends, and how all of that led me to this point. And while that’s true its not what guides me. I don’t fiend for that new visual necessarily. I fuel for that song that makes me feel like nothing else matters. That sense of world building really. So idk, I guess it’s all relative.

I guess my point of all this is to say, realize that dreams fluctuate and grow. But please, I beg you, never let them die. Nurture yourself. Stand for what you believe in. Be truthful to yourself. Love yourself so you can feel the love of everything else around you. Everything will unfold and unfold and unfold. Never stop unfolding. Who knows maybe I was supposed to be lazy this week. Maybe I’ll realize why years from now.

For now I’m going to get back to work and stop being lazy. Cuz the 15 year old me knows how grateful I am to be moving to New York. I owe it to him.